


Damsel No Longer

by webcomix



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Action, Combat Training, Established Relationship, F/M, Fitness training, Humor, Post-Calamity Ganon, Post-Game, Romance, Zelda's goal GET SWOLE!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24473638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcomix/pseuds/webcomix
Summary: After a death defying experience with a honeyvore bear, Zelda realises that erstwhile princesses need not live sedentary lives. So, she appoints her personal knight as her personal trainer.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 170





	1. Chapter 1

It was all because of a rumour.

Zelda had awoken to a lovely late morning with the sun streaming through the window of Link’s Hateno home, patches of bright yellow upon the blanket feeling like they were broiling her legs. She rolled off the straw pallet and ambled downstairs where the table groaned under its heavy burdens. Only Link thought that the first meal of the day required four courses, including multiple options for dessert.

Pigeons warbled unseen above them as the dishes were gradually picked clean. Zelda mopped up sticky wildberry juice with the last of her crepe as he scarfed down yet another egg pudding. Between mouthfuls of flan, Link suggested that they go for a ride. No destination in particular. She immediately agreed.

The horses in their stalls outside pricked up their ears in expectation at the sound of the creaking front door. Her white stallion shook his head in disdain as Zelda tried to mount him, letting out a warning snort when she accidentally kneed him in the rump while trying to get her leg over the saddle. Link gave her a boost before vaulting right onto his bay mare in a single effortless swing. Zelda would have rolled her eyes, but he wheeled around with a post-meal apple secured in his teeth looking like a roast boar. She laughed instead, and Link’s eyes lit up.

Heron calls echoed faintly around the cliffs dotting their little valley in East Necluda, the only sound other than the horses’ steady breathing and the _clop-clop_ of their hooves. Zelda kept her back straight and hands relaxed on the rein of her white stallion as they trotted along the southern bend of the road. It had been a while since she had sat in a saddle. Their final battle against Calamity Ganon had been almost a year ago. A century’s worth of memories grew more distant by the day, muted and taken over by the more pertinent sensations of warm breezes against her skin and crickets’ chirps echoing in the fields.

Link had long chased away the moblins who skulked in the tall grasses. Zelda allowed her eyes to wander across the glittering river and lopsided boulders to the red roofs of Hateno Village. She had traded a castle for a farmhouse and could not have felt any happier.

Link looked back at her. Sunlight glinted off his golden hair just before he smirked and nudged his knees. The bay flicked her ears and sprang into a gallop.

Zelda urged her stallion. “Come on!” He resisted the first few glances of the rein before kicking his legs out into a great leap. Zelda lurched forward before she was able to grab a fistful of ivory mane. But soon, they were driving up dust in long trails on the road.

They arrived at Dueling Peaks Stable breathless and dizzy, too busy gasping and giggling to properly argue over who had won the race. Link surrendered by taking both horses to water, and Zelda darted inside the tent.

The stable was empty save for Tasseren wiping down the curved inn counter and two men huddled over a map. One of them looked up and frowned at Zelda. “You aren’t being incredibly rude and listening to our conversation, are you?

“No,” she said.

“Good.”

“I’m being politely quiet and listening to your conversation.”

The other rounded on her fiercely. “Hey! Don’t you know who we are? We’re treasure hunters, on the trail of our latest score… The treasure of the great bandit Misko! It’s as good as ours. That’s the keen sense of the strongest treasure hunter at work! No gold left behind, not by Domidak!”

“Prissen, you’re going to give it all away!”

He deflated. “Sorry, Dak…”

Domidak rolled up the map and stared down at Zelda imperiously. “Anyway, we’re busy here. If you need something, take it up with someone else.”

Zelda went back outside where Link had dunked his head into the horses’ water trough. He listened to her with rapt attention and a dripping face. Rensa turned to shoot them a look of disapproval when Link sauntered into the stable with damp shoulders, but it wasn’t long until he returned, bouncing a lightened rupee pouch in his palm. “Want to find some treasure?”

Zelda and Link took road south across the Big Twin Bridge, then the Little Twin Bridge. The rivers beneath them were swollen from the spring rains and plump staminoka bass who flexed their tails against the current. Hickaly Woods was an old, overgrown grove that sprawled across the uneven riverbanks. The early afternoon sun streamed between branches to spotlight muddy ironshrooms nestled between roots. Sparrows and squirrels yammered above Zelda as she walked along. Link was already gnawing on acorns plucked up from the grass.

The air was warm and humid, the noise of the wild around her soft and steady. Zelda felt her heartbeat slow. It was a lovely day, and they had endless time on their hands. She felt so happy and secure that she ran out of Link’s sight, climbing up and peering around an enormous hollow stump to search for whatever was making those tinkling bell sounds. Only a very nondescript stone greeted her. Disappointed, Zelda turned around to come face to muzzle with a bemused honeyvore bear.

She was stunned.

It was, too.

She screamed.

It screamed, too. Or rather, a guttural roar of panic issued from the beast’s throat, and it reared up on stout hind legs. Meaty paws attached to muscular forelegs waved over Zelda’s head, their shadows sweeping across her petrified face. The desire to stay alive finally kicked in and she dodged when the paw came crashing down into the rotting wood around her, nail-sharp claws tearing through the bark effortlessly. Zelda scrambled through the splintered opening just as Link came sprinting through the brush, already reaching for a weapon.

Zelda jerked when the whistle of the first arrow sang past her ear, and her feet faltered at the scream of the bear behind her. She tumbled shoulder-first into the lumpy earth, waves of pain throbbing up her arm.

“Up!” Link’s voice suddenly cut through her thoughts. Zelda struggled around and saw him just a few paces away now, waving around the forest with his bow as his other hand went for a sword. “Out of the way!”

Oh yes, yes, that made sense. Zelda forced herself to her feet and hopped-ran towards the closest tree. It looked sturdy enough but just as she got there, Link yelled again.

“Not that one!”

Then, there was quite a bit of snarling and squealing. Zelda winced, wasting precious time before she turned to find a more slender, less-climbable-for-a-great-hulking-bear tree. She chose her specimen and with the rhythm of blade thudding against flesh in the background, Zelda reached for the first branch.

She gave a little hop, and her fingers barely grazed it. Already winded from her narrow escape, Zelda sucked in another lungful of air before she tried scaling the trunk, this beautifully silver smooth bark with no cracks or knots to leverage her feet or fingers against. Zelda heaved herself upwards with all of her might and went sliding down with the grace and dignity of a bruised bokoblin.

Perhaps her stalwart partner and champion had already triumphed, removing the need to take to the leaves like a squirrel. Zelda glanced back just in time too see the bear give a mighty swat, sending Link’s limp form jauntily bouncing down the knoll. On all fours, the bear's shaggy fur rippled back and forth as it shook itself irritably. Link’s arrow stuck out of its flank, hardly immobilising at all.

Adrenaline spiked through Zelda’s exhausted body, leaving her trembling as the honeyvore bear rose up on two legs again. Its upper lip curled back over sharp, yellowed canines to roar one last time before it plummeted to the ground, revealing Link standing behind it with a very bloody sword. He seemed wholly unperturbed by the fresh cuts along his cheek and the bruises that were surely blossoming along his side. Link darted across the bear’s carcass with a nimbleness Zelda couldn’t even fathom right now to reach her side.

“Couldn’t even get up a tree?” he teased. Zelda’s embarrassment ebbed away when Link pulled her in for an embrace. Even a year on, his touch still left her breathless.

Link let go sooner than she would have liked, though when he did, her lips were tingling and heart racing like wild ponies across the Faron plains. He bounded over to the dead bear which had been replaced, inexplicably, with two very large prime cuts of gourmet meat. Link scooped up his due reward with almost as much love and reverence in his eyes when he had held Zelda in his arms instead. Almost.

“It’s not the treasure we wanted, but I’ll take it.” He deposited them into the impossible canyons of his pockets.

“There’s still time,” Zelda said. “After all, we have the Sheikah Slate to warp home if we need to.”

Link looked doubtful. “But you’re…”

“I’m fine!” She leaped to her feet, nearly tripping over a tree root. “We’re so close. I won’t let those brothers win.”

She knew nothing else (apart from food and destiny) would motivate Link more than competition. And it felt so pleasant to stroll beside a bubbling river hand in hand with her hero as the sun sank lower towards the western horizon. That is, until Zelda saw the waterfall. Right above it was the faint outline of cracks in the rock many, many metres high.

“Betcha that’s where the treasure is!” Link said.

“Ugggh,” Zelda agreed.

Any shred of pride she had left melted into the streams as Zelda tried, for at least an hour, to climb up to Misko’s stupid cave. The constant spray of the falls misted strands of hair to her cheek, and her fingernails left long, desperate trails through the moss that covered the boulders. Zelda struggled against the slick stone while Link clambered around above her like a lizard, calling out brief and unhelpful suggestions. “Go that way,” he’d say while pointing at a perfectly sheer cliff face before amusing himself by leaping from rock to rock like some sort of deranged mountain goat.

In the end, Zelda whipped out her Slate. She had just enough strength to haul herself up the icy staircase she created with the runes, the ancient Sheikah’s magic holding out against the rushing water. Link applauded when she finally made it, three empty skewers stuck into the ground next to him. Zelda bit back a scowl.

She was too exhausted to join in his exclamations over the precious gems, or to entertain his theories of how the roasted truffles could have lasted this long, even though each was more ridiculous than the last. She simply leaned against him and buried her face into his shoulder when he finally wrapped an arm around her and tapped the right marker on the Slate for home.

When they materialised at the shrine, Zelda only felt cold, wet, exhausted, and humiliated. Link had to half carry her over the bridge and into the house. She might have fallen asleep in the bath if he hadn’t checked in on her, and even the tantalising meaty rice bowls he whipped up with a special courser honey glaze and a smattering of Goron spice was not enough to keep her awake.

The next morning, all that was left of their little adventure were the aches in Zelda’s limbs when she awoke to rain clattering upon the tiles above her. Link, of course, had been given no such repercussions and was humming off-tune over the sounds of hissing cookware. He bounded back up the stairs to unwrap the blanket from around her and pull her down to the table. Zelda sat with resentful thoughts that hadn’t crossed her mind for over 100 years while he puttered around. They evaporated when Link wrapped up rice balls in a tidy bundle and gave it to her for lunch along with a tender kiss, just before she warped up to the Ancient Hateno Tech Lab.

Purah’s pride and joy was a drafty old room that smelled like dried herbs and musty papers. But for Zelda, it was a haven. She made her way past stacks of books and heaps of ancient parts to a corner of the table that was her own special study spot. All her notes and tools had been left exactly where she had left them. Zelda settled down on her cushioned stool and bent her head over her work.

Hours flew past while she was submerged in research. Zelda finally surfaced for air at midday. She wiped crumbs of Symin’s nutty shortbread from her tunic and got up to fetch elixir ingredients from the director’s own special stores.

The dark clouds had finally drifted away, but the sun hadn’t been out long enough to dry muddy sludge from the paths. Zelda could bypass them all on her quest up the wooden planks that circled Hateno Ancient Tech Lab. With every step up she felt twinges in her thighs and abdomen, pain she did her best to ignore. Halfway up the tower she was sweating, and every breath came out of her in an audible gasp. When she finally reached the top, Zelda collapsed onto the platform by a pile of rusting Guardian caps, wheezing like a dying octorok. She leaned her dizzy head against the wall and stared down into the village below. Hylians moved about like ants, nearly indistinguishable save for their locations and gaits: the farmers ploughing fields in straight lines, townsfolk trotting between trade and chores, even the tiny children who charged up and down the hill with no sense of fatigue whatsoever.

After she and Link had reunited on Hyrule Field, Zelda had been eager to explore Hyrule as it was now. She had dragged Link along with her to journey to each province, visiting old friends and making new ones in towns and villages, snapping picture after picture on the Sheikah Slate for posterity. But after those whirlwind few weeks, Link brought her to Hateno with its plentiful harvest, ease, and comfort where she had hung up the pictures on the wall and relaxed. Far too relaxed. Now she realised how complacent she had become, sequestered in that dimly lit lab without moving for hours on end. Sedentary. Spending all her days off lounging around while Link indulged her every whim, barely lifting a finger.

She kept the Sheikah Slate on her belt that evening, marching down the hill in complete defiance of her aching legs. Dusk had fallen completely by the time she made it back to the village, and Link opened the door before she had even finished crossing the bridge.

“I was just going to get you,” he said. She dragged herself past him without comment. “Is something wrong with the shrine?”

“No.”

“Did Purah try to put a new weird rune on the Slate and mess it up?”

“No.” Zelda plopped into a chair. The table was again laden with a feast: two whole, steaming meat-stuffed pumpkins surrounded by salt-grilled greens and mushrooms. She spotted a platter waiting over on the far counter that housed a creamy fruitcake glistening beneath the lantern light. Her stomach, despite herself, rumbled.

Link sat down across from her. His round blue eyes were wide with concern. Zelda sighed.

“I’ve been thinking about what happened yesterday,” she said, “with the bear and the cave.”

Link tilted his head, now confused. Of course, he didn’t find anything particularly memorable about escaping the mandibles of death and blasting holes in mountains.

“I was utterly helpless in both situations, just slowing you down.” Zelda’s hands twisted in her lap. “You do everything for me.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Well, I mind!” She failed to control her voice, which came out sounding shrilly and panicked. “I shouldn’t be the one who always has to wait for help, or have others wait on me. My entire life’s gone soft. I’ve gone soft! Right here,” she said, standing up and poking her belly.

“But I like—”

“It doesn’t matter what you like,” Zelda snapped. “It's my body and I don’t like it.”

Link clamped his mouth shut and nodded slowly, though it was clear that he was still trying to understand. Zelda looked at all the food that he had carefully, willingly, lovingly prepared for them both and immediately felt regret wash over her. She sat down again.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. Forget that I said anything.” She picked up her spoon and took a bite. Delicious. Link’s forehead smoothed in relief, and he dug into his bowl happily. Zelda watched as the pumpkin quickly became hollow. The amount of food he could pack away had always amazed her, but now she watched the sculpted muscle along his arms and a lean torso that almost never bulged. She thought of his stamina and strength, whether it was from scaling mountains for a divine quest or mucking out the horse’s stalls. Who would have known how often the straw would get soiled?

Then, it dawned upon her. “You’re always in excellent shape regardless of what you eat. It’s the lifestyle I need to change! So I need to do what you do.”

He couldn’t answer her with a mouth full of meat, blinking slowly as he mulled it over. Zelda continued, “Or an approximation, anyway, to fit in around my work. We can’t all just disappear to Gerudo to chase lethal whale monsters in the sand when nothing’s on the agenda.”

“Your agenda is always full,” he protested.

“I can rearrange it.”

Link put down his spoon, signalling that he was giving this proposal some serious thought. After a while, he looked up again. “Are you asking me to train you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He let out a long breath, causing the ends of his uneven, wispy fringe to flutter. “Okay. If you say so.”

He turned around to reach for the fruitcake, so sweet and sugary and irresistible. Zelda’s stomach made another petulant whine. She held out her plate.

“But starting tomorrow!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so hurried to get this posted before the stroke of midnight (my time zone, anyway) that I did it without proofreading or an author's note -- but here I am doing it now!
> 
> This was a fun idea I've had for ages, but offline obligations and the 2020 Situation™ prevented me from getting much writing done, fanfic or otherwise. But, like Zelda, I don't want to be complacent or lazy so let's get back to work!! I noticed that I have a tendency to favour pre-Calamity (mainly because I like creating lore) so here was a change and also, a challenge! Hope you enjoyed it and will stick around for more!


	2. Chapter 2

And so it began.

When Zelda was roused from her sleep the next morning, the glass panes of the window over the bed were cool and black. Before she could even check the Sheikah Slate for time, Link had rolled her down the stairs. He handed her a mug of milk. Zelda looked around for their traditional feast, but the table was bare.

“Later,” Link said.

He pulled her outside. It was still so dark that a few errant fireflies were still flickering around the pond by the apple tree, their soft glows reflected in the water. The horses were deep asleep in their stalls, their legs tucked beneath their torsos and manes fluttering with each long, slow breath. Zelda envied them.

She rubbed her face blearily as Link came to stand in front of her. “Stretching first.”

“What am I stretching for?”

He smiled. Weak light from the house’s small windows drew shadows across his face. “You’ll see.”

Stretching was not bad at all. Zelda enjoyed the feeling of her muscles contracting and relaxing. She particularly appreciated the poses that targeted her shoulders and back. Clearly, all those hours bent over books and worktables were developing some bad habits for her posture. Zelda resolved to be more aware of them when she returned to the lab tomorrow.

Link declared them finished just as the first rays of sun peeked over the eastern horizon. But to Zelda’s surprise, he steered her away from the sunrise and down the slope where they eventually met the dusty road.

“I only have one rule,” he said. “Don’t give up.”

Zelda felt slightly offended. If this was his one rule — and requested of her even before they started — it didn’t bode well for his faith in her. But it had been her idea to start training. He had been the one who needed convincing! Of course she wouldn’t give up.

Link pointed to the west. Blazing like a beacon in ancient Sheikah blue was Hateno Tower, vibrant against the muted colours of nature. “Remember,” he said, “don’t give up!” He took off jogging before Zelda could respond.

She trotted dutifully after him, still thinking that she was being severely underestimated. After all, the ground here was very level, and the early morning breeze crisp and refreshing. And, what a backdrop to run to! The grass on either side of the road had grown lush and green under the region’s regular rainfall, and the cliffs in the distance made picturesque silhouettes. Even after the fall of Calamity, their valley had remained a fairly secluded one. The only sounds were birds sleepily twittering from the trees that rested in the shade of the hills.

By the time she had reached Marblod Plain, Zelda was panting. The sun had climbed into the sky so much faster than expected, and the road was pitted in places from previous travellers or the hooves of wild horses. She had forgotten to tie her hair up, so it stuck to her sweaty neck and face in clumps.

Hateno Tower itself was perched atop a rocky hill, and the road went around it. Zelda floundered up the uneven terrain with her lungs heaving. She reached the boulders at the base of the tower where Link was sitting and eating a mighty banana. He threw her one before she got to him but luckily, she caught it without stumbling over.

“Okay,” he said while she swallowed it whole. “Now that we’ve warmed up, let’s get started!”

Zelda shielded her eyes and craned her neck upwards as Link laid out an extra rule. She would only be allowed to take a rest every third platform, and for no more than ten seconds. Thorny brambles snaked round the lower tiers, but there was one side that had been cleared of them. The rungs resembled vines, knotty and irregular, but there were enough of them. Zelda took a deep breath and reached for the first one.

She was careful to pace herself, but it was sooner rather than later when her arms started aching. Zelda made the mistake of glancing down, and the whole tower suddenly seemed to swoon to one side. She clutched at the spindly rungs, gasping.

Link zipped back down to be by her side. “You’re doing great!”

Zelda grimaced and continued her shaky ascent. Her muscles felt so tense, not just from the labour of staying on course — the thorns kept getting in the way, forcing her to shift awkwardly around to the other sides of the tower — but from nerves and faint pangs of regret. She glanced up and saw Link directly above her, his legs pumping up and down the ladder. While it was a very nice view, his cheerful and steady gait filled her with the determination not to lose.

She hooked an arm around a larger rung and fished the Sheikah Slate from her belt. It was difficult to aim at this strange angle, but as soon as the screen flashed, Zelda activated the stasis rune. She shoved the Slate back onto her belt and started her climb again, double time, resisting the temptation to smirk at Link when she passed him frozen in position and glowing with suppressed kinetic energy.

It wasn’t long until the rune ticked down. Zelda heard the telltale chime of an object released by stasis. She was only a few metres away from the top when something blurred past her. Link, propelled by the built-up momentum from the rune, soared upward in a giant leap. He grabbed the top rung of the ladder and swung himself over the edge in one smooth motion.

“Thanks!” he called down to her with a grin before his face disappeared. Zelda fumed.

After what a few minutes of forever, she finally made it to the top. Zelda pushed her hips over the edge and collapsed, pressing her cheek against the cold hard stone. Her entire being felt like chuchu jelly.

“Hey, don’t give u…”

“I DIDN’T. I’m here. I’m done.”

“Your feet are still dangling,” Link pointed out.

Zelda bit back a curse and squirmed just enough so her entire body heaved onto the floor.

“Now, you need to stretch.”

“Again?”

“Yup. It’s going to hurt if you don’t.”

Zelda forced herself up and did her best to stalk away to the far side of the tower on her trembling legs. She did her stretches with her back turned on Link, fixing her gaze towards the south where just beyond the mountains, a sliver of silver was the only barrier between sky and sea.

When she turned around, she saw that Link had not been at all offended, in fact taking advantage of her disregard to lay out a picnic feast. There were rice balls and omelettes, fish skewers and sauteed mushrooms, crusty brown bread and a pot of creamy heart soup. On a separate blanket was an array of every fruit Hyrule Kingdom had to offer, from the nutty palm fruit to the refreshing hydromelon and even half a hearty durian that perhaps should not have been left in the sun for too long. Link poured them glasses from a pitcher of safflina-infused water that left a cool, tingling feeling in Zelda’s mouth after she swallowed.

Zelda was ravenous. All that physical exertion and on a single fruit and beverage! She finally understood why Link had such a bottomless stomach. Zelda looked over from her plate with her mouth full of egg. Astonishingly, Link had barely touched the food. He was smiling at her, his blue eyes warm and sparkling with delight, not smugness. Zelda suddenly became aware of how dishevelled she must look: her hair was a mess, her skin was damp and pink, and she had dripped butter down her front. She went even pinker and grabbed another rice ball.

Considering the food, the view, and the company… it was a fair compensation.

Zelda didn’t think so anymore when she awoke the next morning with her body crying out. Even after all that stretching! Link had the insolence to laugh when she came tottering down the stairs with her face twisted into a pout, and the nerve to hand her a special “lunch”: a half-bushel of apples. 

“Really?” She didn’t mean to sound rude, but it was widely understood that Link’s culinary capabilities far exceeded this.

He rearranged her hands for a better grip on the basket. “Really. I made this special for you.”

“I didn’t think that shaking a tree for ten minutes qualifies as special.”

Zelda regretted her sarcasm as soon as the words flew out of her mouth, but Link just looked thoughtful. “That’s not a bad idea. It could target your arms.”

Still unperturbed, he smacked a goodbye kiss against Zelda’s forehead and pushed her out the door with one final reminder: don’t. Give. UP!

It was already midmorning, so Zelda hoped that the villagers would be engrossed in their daily routines. But of course, everyone had decided to wander the main road instead. The shop greeters went silent and farmers looked over their tools to stare as Zelda tottered towards the hill with her basket. The gossippy mother hens by the water trough scooted even closer to whisper over their washing when she marched by. She hadn’t even made it to the inn yet when her arms began to tremble. The Hateno children, free from any chores or obligations, became her very large and very loud shadow.

“What’s she doing?”

“Why’s she got that basket?”

“Don’t she know there’s lots of apples up by the lab?”

She did, in fact. But they weren’t actually asking her, so she didn’t reply. Purah’s reputation had created an invisible force field around the top of the hill, so Zelda was finally left alone to huff and puff her burden up the last stretch of path. Which was, of course, without any shade on this single, brilliant, non-rainy East Necluda day.

“Snappity snap, Princess, I’ve already decoded volumes F through H! So I’m giving you the original documents on gossip stones, yes, the ones with water damage. Good luck reading the blurry ink. That’s what you get for being LATE!” The frilly skirt of Purah’s dress rippled as she dramatically flounced around to face Zelda. “Dear Hylia, what are you doing?”

“Lunch. Link.” She couldn’t be bothered to formulate full sentences. Zelda plopped the basket onto a stool by her workbench.

Symin walked over, dark eyes blinking behind his spectacles. “Just apples? For lunch?”

“Apparently.”

“That can’t be right.” He began taking them out of the basket, filling her station with shiny red fruit. “Aha!”

Three pairs of eyes stared into the basket. Her wooden lunch box was sitting at the bottom, sealed shut with twine and protected by a towel. Zelda undid the knot and lifted the lid. The delicious smell of vegetable curry filled the room. There were chunks of carrot and pumpkin in the thick green sauce that surrounded a portion of rice perfectly sculpted into a heart.

“How thoughtful,” said Symin.

“Our Linky is a sweetie,” Purah agreed. “Now, put it away. I expect those documents translated before you leave!”

And so it continued. Every other day, Link dragged Zelda across the valley in pursuit of her physical advancement. Their morning runs did not always lead to Hateno Tower, sometimes veering cross-country up and down the hill to the beach instead. Zelda preferred swimming over sweating and melting beneath the bright harvest sun. Other times, she would walk out of the house to see Link waiting with the horses saddled and ready to go. Riding never seemed like exercise at first but afterwards, Zelda hopped down from the saddle and immediately felt her thighs and abdomen ache.

Zelda pushed through the pain. She had to, or deal with Link’s… well, she wasn’t actually sure what Link would do if she did give up. He was a ball of boundless optimism, so sweetly and annoyingly helpful at every turn. In the evenings when it truly felt like her arms and legs were about to give out, he conjured hot baths for her to soak in. When she emerged clean and tender, there was always food to replenish her energy. One night, when Zelda was so exhausted she could hardly stay awake during supper, Link told her to roll over on the bed. Once her body hit the soft give of the mattress, she was ready to lose all consciousness… until Link pressed his thumbs firmly into her shoulder blades.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry. Too much?”

Zelda sighed into the pillow. “No. Just surprised.”

He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then continued with the massage. Zelda couldn’t sleep while his hands were on her, her heart thumping with each stroke. Some of her sore muscles still twinged at the touch, but overall it was a calming, gentle experience. There was none other she trusted more, after all.

Soon, Link stopped and flopped down beside her. He adjusted the blanket and moved closer until they were nose to nose. Shadows closed in as the lanterns flickered out.

“You’re doing so good.”

“Hm?” Zelda was drifting away, but she forced herself back to consciousness for another minute. “Oh. Thank you.” She snuggled in as he curled his arm over her waist. “And I didn’t give up.”

The puff of Link’s breath was soft against her lips when he chuckled. “No. You didn’t.”

Over time, Zelda could feel herself getting stronger. She stopped getting winded at the simplest action and started feeling relaxed while on the move. Her daily routine was enjoyable now that her body had adapted to it. One foot in front of the other, arms keeping balance, all in rhythm to every inhale and exhale from her lungs. She perched on the boulder beneath Hateno Tower waiting for Link, her eyes wandering upward to the minute silhouettes of birds against the clouds in the sky.

The day she beat him up the tower (without cheating!) she still had enough energy to scream and dance in victory. She felt no fatigue, just pure giddy adrenaline as she skipped along the edges of that platform all the way up in the sky, daring the ground to dip in and out of her line of sight with every leap. Link immediately graduated her to real mountain climbing. Zelda learned how to find hand and footholds where there were none, to use friction and gravity to her advantage. It was like a puzzle, and she loved puzzles.

It wasn’t work anymore. It was fun. They turned their training sessions into games, whether it was using the Shiekah Slate to create an icy obstacle course across Camphor Pond, or sending each other on scavenger hunts around the village. Zelda found herself scaling the windmills themselves to retrieve a knight’s shield that Link had dropped onto the roof tiles, courtesy of the magnesis rune.

“It almost threw me off balance when I went down,” she told him as they lounged beneath the old tree. Link was stirring something that simmered in the cooking pot, and it smelled so good. “I can hardly imagine having to tote that about and wear a complete set of plate armour at the same time!”

He tossed in a handful of ground Tabantha wheat. “Don’t forget the sword and spear.”

Zelda leaned back against the bark and turned her head towards the house. There wasn’t a way she could see from this angle, but beyond the open door were Link’s weapon mounts. They currently displayed those previously wielded by her dear Champions. Link always kept the Master Sword close by. Zelda didn’t need something fashioned in her name, but she did feel a little left out. “When can I start combat training?”

 _Plop_. Hearty blueshell snails splashed loudly into the waiting soup, and Link turned to stare at her. “What?”

Zelda tucked her arms around her sides. “Well.. it’s the next step.”

Link dropped his arm, not even reacting when the ladle clattered against the side of the iron pot. He looked down at the shield he had sent her hunting for, and his eyebrows furrowed. Although silence was a frequent phenomena of living with Link, Zelda felt an urge to explain herself.

“You may have your doubts, but you must admit that I have become very adept at our current exercises. Not only have I gained more strength, but my personal stamina is at an all time best — that sly trick, for example, of filling the lunch basket with stones! I imagine it’s similar to carrying weaponry. Now that I’m ready, it’s time to learn how to defend myself. Just having the skill, even if I needn’t use it, would make me feel better. That was the whole reason for starting all this training, after all! I can’t be your dead weight every time we leave Necluda. I don’t want to be.”

The chowder between them bubbled and steamed. Link finally looked over at her, and Zelda’s heart lurched at the affection in his gaze. But there was something else, too. Defeat? Sadness?

“You won’t give up until I say yes, will you?”

She knew she had won. Zelda pinned her most winning smile to her face as she held out her bowl. “Of course! That’s the rule.”

Link rolled his eyes. It was so satisfying to finally use his words against him. “Okay, then.”

He sat down beside her, inches away. As much as Zelda longed to slurp down her soup, she placed her bowl into the grass and leaned in. She felt his eyelashes whisper against her skin while he blinked at the unexpected kiss, but his hands quickly found her waist and pulled her closer. “Thank you,” she said once they surfaced for air.

He smiled at her again. “You’re… welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay like, here’s the deal. Three is a good number. It’s one of my favourites. It’s a classic and well balanced motif that appears constantly throughout our lives: lists of three always roll off the tongue, books often come in trilogies, their characters often group up in trios (see: every single Percy Jackson sub-series. And Jason/Piper/Leo is the BEST trio to date.) the gaddam Triforce itself! So… why do my fics always end up stretching into four parters when I want them to be in three?! I LIKE THE LOOK OF THREE!
> 
> Anyway. At least I got this one done before the month was over! I promise to get the next one in before the end of July too, which will be a challenge since it’s slated to be a busy month. Promise! Thank you so much for reading.
> 
> PS. Happy Pride!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka "Montage: the chapter"

They began the next day on the beach. Salt on the air and warmth from the sand. Zelda’s heart pounded with each distant crash of the waves. She was finally going to learn to fight.

Link handed her a wooden staff, his expression purposefully blank. Zelda turned it over in her hands. The handles had been worn smooth but it was still knobbly, not much different from the branch it had been hewn from. Zelda inspected the ragged strip of cloth woven around one end.

“Boko spear,” Link confirmed. He had visibly tensed at the sight of her holding a weapon, but Zelda refused to acknowledge it.

“It’s blunt,” she said.

“So we don’t stab each other.” Link produced another staff from behind his back, then lightly tapped it against hers. “Which is your dominant hand?”

“My… right?”

“Place it about a quarter’s length from the end of your staff. On top, palm down and fingers at the bottom. The other hand grasps from below, evenly spaced.” He nodded when Zelda followed accordingly. “Now, you can easily strike out from either end by opening or closing your fingers.”

It was a very easy movement. The wood rolling across her palms felt steady and solid.

“This grip is versatile,” Link explained, “especially for melee range attacks that require immediate parrying.” He demonstrated, feet scoring trails in the sand and leaving deeper indents when weight shifted from left to right.

The features of Link’s face sharpened: brows furrowing and mouth tightening as he started alternating his strikes into the air. The staff moved swiftly from position to position, each time remaining as rigid and straight and stubborn like the tree from which it had been cleft. Zelda was mesmerised. Her heart beat fast against her ribcage when she suddenly recognised him — the soldier from the royal guard running through his drills in perfect precision to match the barks of his commander. It was so strange to see him again.

Link stopped, and the creases in his brow relaxed into the smooth, easy smile of her hero again. “Ready?”

Zelda squared her shoulders. “Yes!”

She was not, in fact, ready. Every time their spears connected, unpleasant tremors rattled up Zelda’s arm and distracted her while she tried to keep pace with each advance and retreat. Her feet stumbled over the uneven pebbles of the beach. Breezes off the ocean set her hair tickling her neck when they weren’t plastered to her forehead with sweat. Link’s advice jumbled around her head in a confusing whirl, making it even harder to concentrate on what she was actually doing. Zelda pushed her tongue against her teeth and kept swinging. She couldn’t let Link know that she found this hard, or else he would go easy on her. She knew he would.

But in time, she came to appreciate the quarterstaff. And Link wasn’t wrong when he had called it a versatile weapon. Zelda used it once to poke a courser bee honeycomb off a tall branch, then her now well-conditioned leg muscles to hightail it out of the woods without getting stung. Well… more than once, anyway.

It didn’t take much to convince him to let her move onto ranged weapons. By definition, they were meant to keep her out of harm’s way. Zelda picked a swallow bow from Link’s cache, running her fingers across the colourful yarn wrapped around the upper and lower limbs. The grip was nicely proportioned to her hand, almost molding itself beneath her palm.

She walked outside to the little grassy slope beside their house. Link had set up a small shooting range against the mountainside, circles of blue and red painted on burlap sacks using dye filched from Sayge’s shop. He hoisted himself onto the fence around the horses’ stalls, currently empty. Link didn’t even look up as Zelda took aim, rubbing a freshly picked apple upon his tunic.

“Okay,” he said as he inspected the bright red skin, “first you—”

He sat up in mid-bite when the first sack let out a loud _PAF_ and started leaking sand into the green grass. “…have to…” An arrow was embedded into the blue outer ring. “…keep your back straight?”

Zelda leaned back on her heels, plucking the swallow bow’s string and smirking. “Understood, sir knight.”

She hadn’t hit it square in the centre, so there was still some space for Link to give her pointers. But every time Zelda pulled the string to her shoulder, everything just flowed into place: her shoulders stretched back, her elbow lifted, and she felt a great sense of satisfaction seeing the arrow sail straight and true into the over-punctured sacks. Link had forgotten all about his apple though it was still in his hand. His sandy hair swung back and forth as he stared between her and the target repeatedly.

She couldn’t explain exactly why this was. Later, as they sat down to a dinner of poultry pilaf with sides of fried wild greens and sauteed peppers, a theory floated to the front of her mind. “Bows and arrows have been linked to Hylia’s bloodline before,” she told Link as he scooped the glistening rice into bowls. “At least two legendary princesses wielded them in their battles against Ganondorf.”

Zelda glanced down at the back of her hand. Her power was gone, no longer of any use since Ganon’s darkness had finally blinked out of existence on Hyrule Field. She had assumed that her connection to the Goddess and all those ancient princesses was no more, but what if…?

Link put down the ladle. “You didn’t learn archery from… from before?” His eyes darted to the tablecloth.

Zelda sighed. “As if Father would have allowed me to try.”

“I guess,” he said.

Link sat down, then stood up again since he hadn’t served the vegetables yet. “You gave me the bow of light,” he remembered.

“Yes, but I never actually used it. You did.” Zelda looked over at the relic from where it glittered on the wall. “I find it odd that it didn’t return to the Goddess’s realm once the Calamity was ended.”

Link froze. He turned to her with a gleam in his eye. Before Zelda could ask, he had grabbed her wrist, snatched the bow from the wall, and dragged them both out into the night.

The sky was velvet ink, but the full moon and dozens of stars cast the valley in a pale light. Link hurried Zelda to where they had been practising earlier, but ignoring the targets, he faced her away from the house and village.

“Aim for the ruins,” he said, putting the bow of light into her hands.

“I can’t even see them!” Though she was hardly paying attention — the holy weapon was an overwhelming sensation, barely corporeal, just glowing buttery sunshine upon her skin. It enveloped her like a gentle embrace, and her fingers found their way to the ivory grip and the gold string that hummed with soundless music without obstacle.

A blinding star burst from her fist, the light arrow blazing in a beautiful, incandescent arch before snuffing out leagues away from them, perhaps even beyond the Dueling Peaks. Zelda gasped and dropped her arms, a faint ringing in her ears. Link whooped and skipped around in the grass. A few candles suddenly flickered to life in some of the darkened buildings of Hateno Village just before they scurried back into the house.

She learned to braid her hair to keep it out of the way when they trained together, but one morning a sharp pivot on her heel caused it to swing around like a heavy rope and whip her in the eye. The same night, while Link worried his lip and begged her to reconsider, Zelda sat down at the table and handed him the knife. When he was done, she tilted her head back to feel the ends brush against her shoulders.

Zelda was enthralled for days afterward. She couldn’t resist admiring herself in the burnished shield surfaces on the wall. (Which made Link laugh at her, but at night he ran his fingers up her neck and scalp, allowing the short golden strands cascade over his tanned skin. They spent the night tangled together, staying that way even when the sunlight streamed in.)

Her friends and neighbours showered her with compliments, making her heart and head swell. Never before had Zelda felt so light, so different, so new. And it wasn’t only from the haircut. Zelda awoke each day feeling more confident and strong and attractive than she had ever known in her life. The way Link looked at her only fueled her ego.

“What about one-handed weapons?” she asked. It was a cloudy afternoon in the fields of rice belonging to the farms that surrounded the village.

He was better prepared for her this time, ears twitching slightly as he collected the bright blue chuchu jelly blobs littering the ground. “You don’t need them.”

Zelda twirled the wooden hunter’s shield in her hand. The two rabbits painted upon it somersaulted faster and faster until they blurred together. “But aren’t these shields designed to be used in tandem with a sword? It’s pointless to practise without one.”

Link turned and lobbed the chuchu jelly at her again; she sprang back with her arm raised. The jelly smacked against the wood soundly before bouncing into the grass, scattering crickets. Link scooped it up. “You’re doing just fine.”

“That’s because I can see the projectile coming long before it actually makes it to me.” Zelda combed her mind for reasons. She was excellent with excuses. Her father, Urbosa, and every tutor the castle had ever employed all said so. “How likely is that in real combat? You can’t expect me to block and run to an acceptable distance to use a spear or bow. One day, an enemy will get within melee range and I’ll be a sitting duck. I must learn to fend for myself in any circumstance.”

The skies burst open before she finished. Zelda lifted the shield over her head so her short hair wouldn’t frizz from the humidity, and Link pointed at the large tree at the end of Zelkoa Pond. They raced each other for the refuge of its branches. After they settled into the roots to wait out the storm, Link sighed and put his arm around her. He pressed his cheek against her forehead and said, “Tomorrow.”

Zelda skipped out of the house the following morning to find Link inspecting the apple tree. He picked a branch from the bottom boughs and tossed it at her.

“Won’t they break?”

“They don’t hurt, Zelda. Okay, do you remember the strikes we did for quarterstaff?”

Of course she did. Link demonstrated how to grip the branch with one hand along with the wrist movements needed to land her hits. Zelda executed them flawlessly upon the apple tree. The branch snapped upon the last blow, white wood visible within a dark ring. A tiny, bent strip of bark was the only thing keeping the halves together.

Link plucked another branch. “Now, here are the traditional parries that block all of those cuts.”

The branches kept breaking, crumbling in her fingers if she ever so much grazed it against the wind. Zelda complained, so Link handed her the soup ladle. A village child trotting over the bridge to deliver a basket of eggs and milk from the farms laughed openly at the spoon waving around in the air, so Zelda tossed it into the dirty hay of the horse stalls.

“Fine, fine. You know the basic moves anyway, so we can move on.”

Swords were suddenly so different, even the simple weapon favoured by travellers on the road who had never trained with one before. Zelda swung one through the air experimentally, and the waft of the blade cutting the air whispered over her skin and sent shivers down her spine. Link had an enormous collection, and she spent a long time testing her fingers around the grip and studying the various ways they had been decorated: jewelled Gerudo scimitars, rough hewn Goron crushers, the royal line in gleaming gold and their darker twins for the royal guard. She was impressed and intrigued by the engineering, noting how variables like length, weight, and even shape was essential to their original purposes. Even the glossy hardwood forest sword was sharp enough that it sliced against her fingernail. Zelda tucked her hands behind her back and nodded when Link tersely commanded her to stay away from the elemental weapons.

They kept practising in the afternoons on Hateno Beach, after her regular exercises in the morning. Purah was getting very annoyed that she was skiving on their research project, but Zelda was a woman of obsession, and she had finally found another to replace hours of being buried in ancient texts. There was such joy and delight in physical activity, who knew? Endorphins, Purah scoffed.

Perhaps, but Zelda knew she had unlocked something the moment she had strapped on the shield and lifted her sword. Each strike and parry drew her closer to Link, enough to hear the intake of breath and feel body heat rolling off his limbs. When they sparred it was like a dance: requiring precise footwork, anticipation for his next move, and energy crackling between the space that grew and diminished with each advance and retreat. His eyes flashed with respect when she refused to concede after their blades locked, and her sudden swing dared him not to underestimate her. His experience made him wise, but she was certainly courageous.

Finally, they went back to Kakariko Village. They were warmly welcomed by the Sheikah, but Zelda brushed off Koko and Cottla’s sticky fingers from her sleeve and hiked up the hill towards Ta’loh Naeg shrine. She gazed up at the brilliant blue glow seeping through the moss-covered stone as Link fussed around with tightening the straps on her fairy-blessed armour. He stuffed her pockets full of heart elixirs — he must have stripped Hateno beach clean of lizards — and a nervous stream of advice.

“You’ll be offered weapons but the Guardian Shield is more effective against the scouts, except I don’t think this one shoots lasers. It’s all about timing and balance. When flipping, try to spot your head right away so you don’t get dizzy. Charging is most effective with two-handed weapons bu—”

Zelda tugged her elbow out of his grasp and turned around. Seizing his face with both hands, she silenced him with a kiss. “I will return with plenty of guardian samples for Purah,” she said to his disgruntled and slightly squashed expression. She touched the Sheikah Slate against the pedestal and hopped onto the sinking medallion before he could say another word.

The shrine was one enormous room, not even a fence between the portal and the playing field. Zelda felt the adrenaline in her bloodstream flowing hot as she bypassed the offered chests, fingers twitching for the sword that rested at the back of her shoulder.

_To you who sets foot in this shrine, I am Ta’loh Naeg. I share with you my knowledge, that it may please Hylia._

Zelda had always thirsted for knowledge. She walked forward, her footsteps echoing across the smooth stone walls, to where a platform was rising to the floor. The Guardian scout unfolded its mechanical limbs, brandishing a blade that smoked with the same blazing energy as Zelda’s shield now pixelating over her arm.

At sunset, she emerged from the shrine victorious. Link insisted she take an elixir anyway. The Sheikah served them a feast that night, pumpkin soup, meat skewers and salt-grilled mushrooms, with egg pudding and honey apple crepes for dessert. Hylia’s loyal servants swarmed around Zelda, complimenting her new look and questioning her trials in the shrine, of which she was extremely willing to describe. Even the elderly warriors of the village looked impressed, nodding and humming their approval.

“It is wise to be trained in combat. That way, you can command your own forces when the need arises.”

Zelda’s bite of crepe froze halfway to her mouth. “I beg your pardon?”

Cado raised a brow. “Isn’t that your intention, princess? To seize the throne and rebuild the kingdom. Too long has Hyrule been without a leader. We have understood your need to recuperate from your vigil against the Calamity, so I am heartened to see you so keen on strengthening yourself.”

Steen rubbed his hands together. “Ridding Hyrule Castle of its vermin would be a simple task.”

“We are ready whenever you are,” Olkin declared, thumping his chest. “It’s what I’ve been training for! Every day for 36 years!”

Zelda gaped at them. She hadn’t even considered this as an option. Her schedule was so full: the training sessions with Link, her tech projects with Purah, and an endless list of things to do and places to explore speckled across the Sheikah Slate’s map in an array of colourful markers. If she were to rebuild Hyrule, all of it would have to be set aside. Who knew when she, as ruler, would have time for them again?

Link said nothing. His eyes looked glassy in the red haze of lantern light, knuckles tight around the spoon that scraped against the empty egg pudding pot. He was still too quiet when they parted ways afterward, perfunctory with his goodnight kiss before the guards dragged him to the inn. Impa always demanded that they bunk separately in her village, refusing to hear about their living arrangements in Hateno. Zelda’s mind was still spinning as she tossed and turned under the scratchy woolen blanket on Paya’s bed.

“P-princess? Is it true that you’re restoring the monarchy?”

Zelda rolled over again to meet Paya’s quivering eyes, just visible over the bed frame. She handed the Sheikah girl a pillow. Paya always assured her that she didn’t mind curling up on the floor, but it always made Zelda uncomfortable.

“I don’t think so,” Zelda said. “It sounds even more exhausting than my current training regime. I never wanted it, even when I thought I had no choice.”

“Maybe… you should…” Paya fidgeted on the mat. “…tell Master Link.”

“Why?”

“He might be worried.”

“He has no reason to.” But Zelda felt her pulse quicken as she recalled his stony expression at the feast. “Even if I did, why would that worry him? Does he think I would just leave if that were the case?”

She was merely speaking her thoughts out loud, but Paya covered her face with the pillow. “S-sorry!” she gasped, muffled by cucco feathers. “You’re right, he would know how you feel about it. My apologies, Princess.”

They curled away from each other, shielding their embarrassment under the guise of sleep. But long after Paya’s breathing had slowed into deep, even sighs, Zelda remained wide awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Natalie Wynn voice) Ah, the inherent eroticism of dueling your boo.
> 
> I took a stage combat class YEARS ago (proven how I needed to look a few things up as I kept second-guessing my memories for certain terms and stances). The instructor did point out that the moves we learnt were for the stage, therefore more flash and style rather than practicality, but I figure that video game fighting operates on the same expectations too.
> 
> Also, now we can all share a big LOL at "the end of July". But as NaNoWriMo is coming up soon, I legit want to finish this by Halloween. So... we'll see?!


	4. Chapter 4

The morning was empty and quiet as Zelda followed Link through the canyon. The tall grass bent low as the wind blew down the rocky corridor, green and grey beneath the pale blue sky. She felt it too, a cold wave sweeping over her skin and lifting the hem of her cape, but the round soldier’s shield strapped across her back prevented the entire cloth to go rippling in the breeze like a banner. She was grateful for it.

Link froze and turned around, as if he could hear her nervous, swirling thoughts. Zelda smiled back over her heart pounding against her ribcage. Earlier that morning, without even leaving the walls of Impa’s house, she had warped back to Hateno in secret to prepare for their excursion. As Zelda rifled through Link’s trunks in the predawn dark, she found herself questioning the details of this plan. Mainly the fact that there weren’t that many details to it. Was it too simple? Was it too dangerous? Was she now the reckless one, and would be filled with regret if all backfired spectacularly?

It would not, Zelda decided firmly as she slid a royal broadsword into its purple and gold scabbard, then squirreled it away into the Sheikah Slate’s magical inventory. She had trained hard enough. She was ready.

She managed to sneak back to Kakariko by sunrise, darting down the hill and up the wooden stairs as light broke over the karst mountains. The Sheikah guards blinked at her, but said nothing. Impa did the same, tilting her head when Zelda hurried through the double doors, then gesturing for her to kneel on the cushions beside her.

Link arrived just as they were settling into a traditional Sheikah-style breakfast of eggs over rice with grilled fish and pickled carrot on the side. A frown flitted across his face, but it disappeared in the steam that rose from the tea Paya poured for him.

“Have you achieved your goals on this journey, Princess?” Impa asked.

“No,” Zelda said.

Paya and Link both looked up. “No?” Impa hinted.

“I…” Zelda inhaled and set down her teacup so the liquid wouldn’t slosh over the rim. “I’d like to journey to Mount Lanayru.”

She braced herself for the reactions, but only Paya delivered with a loud, drawn-out gasp. Impa remained calm, though her eyebrows shot into the brim of her hat. “Mount Lanayru. The Spring of Wisdom?”

Zelda nodded. “Well, I haven’t heard the voice of the Goddess since the fall of the Calamity. I want to, um, check.”

Her heart raced at the little white lie. The Sheikah shared knowing glances. Link hadn’t moved a muscle. He stared at Zelda with those intense blue eyes, and she burned on the inside.

“Tell us what you need,” Impa said, “and we will provide it for your quest.”

And that is how they left: up the hill, past the shrine and the glittering fairy fountain, and down this canyon towards the mountain. Zelda now approached the thin arch of the West Gate. The stone was yellowed with neglect, stained with moss and bird droppings. Two herons peered down at them from their perches atop the gate wall, then took to the air with a flap of their pink-tipped wings.

Their boots sounded upon the road that now emerged out of the grass. Zelda marvelled at the smooth uniformity of the flagstones, how the professionalism of the workmanship showed through a lack of stray grasses or weeds that had found purchase in the cracks. Above them both, rare sunlight beamed over the highlands to cast rigid shadows from the remaining arches that colonnaded the road and illuminate worn reliefs. Whatever inscription or design that had been carved into the walls had eroded or simply broken down.

Lanayru Promenade had been old even a hundred years ago. It had been a stately, well-kept avenue known for its meditative, peaceful atmosphere and frequently visited by many. Nearby Zora and Sheikah were most common, gliding through the waters in pairs or pondering the shadow of the sacred mountain. Rito and Gorons found it worth the journey to visit as tourists, admiring the architecture — their voices sometimes echoing around as they criticised the upkeep of the stonework. And of course, Hylians. This was their ancestors’ creation, after all.

Zelda glanced over at Link. He was chewing on his bottom lip, kicking pebbles aside and scuffing the toes of his boots. He didn’t know that they were following the path of ancient pilgrims, but he did remember the last time they walked along this promenade. It hadn’t been a stroll, and it hadn’t been for fun.

They reached a portion of the walkway that had indeed sunk while the lake rose and flooded over the sides. Link frowned across the water at the ripples streaming around the dilapidated fountain, counting how many black lizalfos waited for them to attempt to float across. But Zelda ignored the raft completely. She reached up and grabbed the first corner of the crumbling wall.

The movement alone triggered all the training she had done with Link. Zelda slipped into climbing mode, toes wedging themselves into hairline cracks so her legs could propel her upwards. Her eyes traced paths up the rock face, several of them. She did not trust the vines draping down the pillar, digging her fingers into the packed soil of the natural cliff face instead to hoist herself over the top.

Link joined her quickly, looking a little disgruntled that he hadn’t thought of the alternate and safer route first. Zelda rolled her eyes over his bent head as he checked her palms for scrapes, then stood back as he tugged a blanket out of his belt pack and laid it out over the dusty stone surface. “Lunchtime,” Link said.

The uncomfortable feeling between them disappeared with eat bite of bread and stew. Zelda sighed and leaned her head against Link’s shoulder as they dangled their feet over the pillar’s edge. The sun sparkled down onto the long lake below, a rainbow glimmering in the spray of the waterfall directly across from them.

“Are you going to do it?” Link asked suddenly.

Zelda lifted her head. “Do what?”

“Rebuild the kingdom.”

She was, at first, startled and a little hurt by his blunt tone, then realised that there was no other way to raise the topic. Zelda shrugged, glancing towards the east. Even here, Mount Lanayru was enormous and dark. “I will know once we reach the mountain.”

Link’s brows knotted together. “But you never wan—” He stopped himself before she could and turned away to tidy away their picnic in silence.

Zelda felt terrible. She was fooling him, but only just a bit and for a little longer. It was even worse since he wasn’t trying to stop her. Zelda quickly prayed forgiveness from the Goddess before hurrying over to help tie the rope securely so they could rappel down to the road again.

The bokoblins on the bridge were easily picked off with arrows, and Link leaped in front of Zelda to dispatch of the moblin before she could even react. By now, the sun was setting and the lonely shadow of the East Gate was a gentle upward slope away. Link reached for her hand, and Zelda squeezed back.

But that was over one hundred years ago, and she had already finished her mourning. Link started when Zelda let go of his hand and marched under the ancient arch.

“Zelda, wait! There’s a—”

She took a few final steps before stopping completely. The grass here was lush from a steady supply of melting snows, young birch trees scattered here any there but too far apart to constitute as a wood. Squirrels scampered across the path, chattering at one another as they stole off with acorns. Foragable goods like mushrooms and peppers thrived in the wedges between rock and root, winking at her temptingly. And only a hundred paces away: a silver lynel.

It stalked back and forth behind the trees, cleverly obscured by the branches. But Zelda still saw the bulging striped muscles that gripped a triple-bladed shield and a bow double her height. An equally enormous sword, heavy and crushing, slung across its back. Dull thuds echoed faintly with each stomp of those flinty hooves, sharp curved horns protruded from its glossy mane, and Zelda saw black lips curled into a permanent snarl.

“Go back to the other side of the gate,” Link breathed in her ear.

“No.” Zelda slowly pulled out the Sheikah Slate.

“Zelda—”

“No,” she whispered, pressing her finger to selected icons in the glowing inventory. “I’m ready.”

Link gaped at her. She held up a royal bow and let the first arrow fly.

It sank into the lynel’s bicep. The monster glanced down, first confused, then surprised, then angry as it plucked the slender shaft from its arm and snapped it in twain with a brief flex of its fingers. It wheeled around and spied Zelda’s bright yellow hair immediately. She heard the slither of steel as it unsheathed its weapon, then lowered its head to charge.

Link grunted an unintelligible word, most likely profane, and shoved Zelda aside with all his might. She slipped on the dewy grass and nearly fell into a bush. The royal bow slipped from her hands so she had to roll over to get to her knees and pick it back up — but Link had already running through the trees, yelling and waving his arms to draw the beast’s attention. He managed to dodge just in time, sliding beneath the lynel’s shield arm before attacking its flank.

She could not let him take the entire fight. Zelda scrambled to her feet and began to run, the royal broadsword gleaming in her fist. She saw Link’s eyes meet hers. His mouth opened to shout at her — and the monstrous blade smacked into his ribcage with a sickening crunch. Link flew past the trees and landed in the grass in a crumpled heap.

There was no time for guilt. Zelda charged forward, not hearing but feeling her throat scrape raw from her own shrieking battle cry. The lynel’s sword slammed against her shield with a deafening CLANG and rattled every bone in her body. Zelda snatched up the Sheikah Slate as the lynel stumbled back one, two steps before suddenly stopping. She pulled out the royal broadsword, golden and gleaming with her family’s insignia, and whaled hard onto the creature frozen in time. Her blade hacked away at the meaty flesh beneath the warning tick of the rune’s countdown.

She knew to back away when the rune expired, but the lynel simply shook off her attacks like they were no more than bothersome insects. She was about to swap to her bow again when suddenly, an explosive wind knocked her off her feet. Zelda skidded along the pebbly path, pain cresting through her body in rapid waves as the momentum rocked her shoulder over shoulder again and again.

She dizzily tried to push herself to sitting, but her head spun like marbles across a polished floor. Someone yanked her upright – Link. “Get ready to run,” he said, grasping her wrist.

The lynel straightened up to its full, towering, height and inhaled deeply. Something glowed within its jaws, bubbling up like magma, and Link pulled Zelda aside right before the lynel unleashed streams of fire at them. As the soles of her sprinting feet were toasted by the flames, Zelda unhooked the royal bow again and whirled around to shoot an arrow directly into the creature’s forehead. It growled and staggered to one knee, disoriented.

Link sprinted past her, the Master Sword flashing in his fist. Before the lynel could rise, he vaulted over the striped rump onto the beast’s back. He was able to get several choice strikes as the beast bucked and roared, then leaped off before his stamina ran out.

“Again!” he shouted back at Zelda. She notched another arrow and loosed it right into the lynel’s left eye. The guttural, otherworldly screams chilled her to the bone, even covering up the slick sounds of the Master Sword stabbing into firm flesh. Link ducked a blind swipe of the lynel’s sword and was forced to run back. But instead of joining her, he opened up the paraglider over an updraft made by a burning patch of grass.

“Take the opening,” he called to her. Zelda started running even before Link lined up the next headshot. The lynel raised its dangerous shield and slammed it down. Zelda felt the wind grazing her cheek, then stepped back and launched into a backwards somersault. In the slow, exaggerated world of flurry rush, the lynel had left its entire right side open. Zelda made one, three, five critical hits before springing back into safety.

Another arrow, tipped with fire, caught in the lynel’s mane. It dropped its weapons, pawing at the flames. Link stumbled his landing next to Zelda, unsheathing the Master Sword one more time.

“NOW!” he shouted. They rushed forward together. The lynel raised its scarred face just in time to see two blades catch a glowing ray of twilight before they drove deep into its chest. A final, critical, double blow.

The lynel fell to its knees. Then it slumped over and went still. Victory.

Zelda dropped her sword and shield, shaking with relief. The rank smell of charred flesh and pooling blood made her gag as she gulped air down into her heaving lungs, her heart slamming against them and feeling very lightheaded. But she managed to turn around to look at Link, who was likewise standing beside her in shock, shoulders slumped and the tip of Master Sword dragging upon the ground.

“What…” He slowly turned his head to look at her. “What did you think you were doing?”

“It was a test!” Her voice came out louder and shriller than she wanted, but Zelda was in no place to correct herself. “You would never just let me TRY, so I had to pretend we were going on a pilgrimage—”

“What if – wait – you were – this was the plan all along?” Link spluttered, his wide-eyed stare of panic now morphing into incredulous rage.

“YES! You know I’ll be fine if I never see that stupid spring again!”

Link looked so furious. He _was_ furious. He was actually speechless, knuckles white around the Master Sword and Hylian shield with blue eyes like ice. Meanwhile, Zelda was still full of unspent adrenaline whirling in her bloodstream and it coalesced in her stomach as a spinning ball of fear that she had indeed crossed a line with him. She needed to fix this. Now.

She threw her arms around his stiff shoulders. “Please, please, I’m so sorry, I know it was foolish of me. And prideful. And selfish. I just… I wanted to see if I really learned anything. I want to be able to do what you can do.”

Link didn’t even look at her. Zelda felt tears pricking at her eyes. “I don’t want to be a burden anymore. It, it just doesn’t seem fair to push you into harm’s way and waiting for the fight to be over. I know it’s what you’ve always done for me but the kingdom doesn’t exist anymore –I want to be beside you wherever we go, neither in front nor behind. I want to make sure I’ll do my share wherever we go to next.”

She pressed her forehead against his neck, trembling. Then, she heard the faint sounds of sword and shield clattering on the ground before Link wrapped his arms around her. Zelda raised her head to speak again, but he suddenly pressed his mouth against hers and her mind went completely blank.

It took the lonely hooting of an owl to bring them both back to their senses. “How are you going to explain this to Impa?” Link asked. He curled his fingers around hers tightly.

It was a very good question. They weren’t expected back in Kakariko for at least another day, considering that they were meant to be hiking up a snowy mountain right now.

Link grinned. “We’ve one more hour until the sun sets completely,” he said. “And there’s a hinox over by the lake. Shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making out covered in monster guts is VERY romantic. Also, to properly write this scene I went and killed my first lynel! (Yes, I'm a coward.) ;D Ate half my food inventory for it.
> 
> I hope this is a satisfying enough ending for everyone. I finished it in haste because this coming month will be really intense for me and I'll have to focus on other things. Thank you for reading this silly little story, and have fun playing Age of Calamity in less than a month!!!!!!!! 8D


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